


it's only fair to warn you- i have no idea what i'm doing

by chambers_none



Category: Teen Titans (Animated Series), Teen Titans - All Media Types
Genre: AU where they accidentally become the teen titans, F/M, It just kinda happened, Slow Build, blending in both comic canon and tv canon so this might be confusing, everyone's slightly older here, literally they didn't mean to become a crime-fighting organization, look i just wanted more bbrae and it turned into this mess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-13
Updated: 2015-12-14
Packaged: 2018-05-06 12:03:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5416211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chambers_none/pseuds/chambers_none
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>they were always destined to meet. a not-so-teen titans au.</p><p>in which dick really hates his dad but can't stop being rich, victor mocks ex machina, rachel just needs to finish her essay on #BLM, koriand'r accidentally becomes a hooker, garfield works in a vegan bakery and they all really suck at secretly being superheroes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> in this world, the teen titans was never formed. not officially, anyway. 
> 
> for those of you out of the loop, victor stone/dick grayson/rachel roth/garfield logan/koriand'r are the respective aliases of cyborg/robin/raven/beast boy/starfire.
> 
> the idea of holo-rings are taken from the first episode of season three where cyborg disguises himself as his pre-cyborg self. basically for the purposes of logic in this au, everyone looks passably human. (so that kinda makes raven a cultural appropriator to explain the gem on her forehead.) (superheroes, while not always welcomed, are tolerated; society's as shit in this au as it is in our world and being green/half-covered in tech are not options for anything other than crime-fighting.)
> 
> as mentioned, this au blends both comic canon and tv canon. for starfire, instead of arriving on earth via the gordanians as seen in episode ten of season five, she does so by escaping to the nearest planet (earth) after stealing a spacecraft to evade her sister/the psions. obviously, this alters how the teen titans meet.

richard grayson was done. it was always bad when he thought of himself, full name and all, as richard, because it lent a strange sense of authority, formality to whatever he was thinking of. and richard grayson? officially done. come tomorrow night he would be done, and most importantly, be _gone_. 

it was always hard not to momentarily censor your thoughts because there was always the irrational possibility bruce could hear them.

he'd been saving up his allowance for a few months now, and gotten a job as a mechanic in jump city, which was as far away as he could travel without burning a hole in his wallet too much. ha. what a problem he'd never had before. it was still too close to gotham in his opinion (preferably, he'd had preferred somewhere away from the entire continent of america, but airline tickets really were expensive and much easier to track down) but he'd managed. hell, anywhere away from gotham and the oppressive sense of failure and poverty and crime would do. jump, according to google, was almost notoriously well-lit and crime-free. that sounded amazing in his opinion.

"dick?"

he hadn't heard the knock on the door, and he fumbles with his hands, even though he's technically not handling anything contraband right now. (he's not an idiot, okay, he doesn't pack his duffel bag anytime before 2am.) it's just jason and damian.

"we were going to put on a movie. the avengers. you wanna?"

"what, that crappy old thing? we've- you've watched that thing a million times."

"keep up with the times old man, the sequel just got released, and it's so awesome-" 

he'd miss them, he supposes.

whatever.

he shrugs, offering no comment. his back is still facing them, and as he knows they would, waits for them to leave. he hears jason mutter, "suit yourself" and his heart pangs but it really doesn't matter.

their mention of the superhero movie reminds him, however, to pack robin's suit and other essentials. you never know.

-

this would probably be the best gift silas could ever give him. the key to his freedom. the chance for normality. some hope for his humanity. it was stupid, really, but if he looked human, then maybe he could be one too.

"thanks, dad."

silas pauses, movements stilted. victor recognises the suspicion before his father lifts an eyebrow, but mercifully. says nothing.

he's walking out of here. he's free.

-

the landing isn't smooth; but then again, she never really expected it to be. as it was, it was miracle enough she landed on a planet and didn't collide with the side of some asteroid. koriand'r remains in her seat, attempting calm. perhaps, if she evens out her breathing, the anxiety will fade soon enough. there is so much potential outside her cracked window that it overwhelms; will she be subject to fear and suffering and loneliness, not unlike under komand'r's reign? or will she against all odds make a life here? she stares at the screen that informs her she has landed on earth, landing successful, she has landed on earth, landing successful. 

she has a plan: to find joy, here. but first survival must be possible. her mind is a mantra of a to-do list: contact, assimilate, shelter, sustenance. if she repeats it to herself enough it should come naturally, instinctively. 

after a brief moment she extricates herself from the wreck. she is on a coast of some kind, and in the distance there is some structure that reminds her of the docks back home on tamaran. good, then. an earthling, or as the reports her craft had provided her on the way here, a human, is bound to be there.

the weather is cold, and in spite of herself, she begins to shiver. it is not necessarily the elements she is reacting to; after all, there were climates on tamaran that were more unforgiving. but she is fatigued, and she has just narrowly escaped her sister's terror, and she has yet to learn the human language. her senses are at once heightened and dulled. everything is too foreign, and koriand'r would collapse in the sand if only she knew she had the will to get up after. 

she sidles up to the docks, where a few humans are loitering. they are loud, boisterous, in packs, which will not do. she requires one, and from thereon, she can proceed. 

they shout at her with remarks she does not understand, whistling, and it feels crude all the same. it is a form of assault she does not understand. she walks ahead, refusing to make eye contact and engage in anything that could encourage their behaviour. sure enough, their laughter fades away. then she spies one human, by his lonesome. as she strides towards him, she notices an odd stick in his hand. clearly, human traditions are extremely different. the faster she gets this over with, the better.

she taps the human on the shoulder. he is startled, judging by the way his eyes widen and his body hunches in response. but then he spreads his hands, babbling, and koriand'r is unimpressed enough by today's events that she does not pause for consent.

"-have a wife _ihaveawife_ ," the human- man, she learns- rambles on, even as she continues lip contact.

it takes her a while, but she comes to understand that a wife is akin to companionship on tamaran. "i'm sorry," she mutters reflexively, attempting to move away, but his hands circle her waist. she blinks, confused.

"don't stop," and this is horrid- clearly, traditions of the earth are complex, because his previous statements contradict his words now. 

she pauses anyway. "don't you want me to?"

the man looks at her, eyes lidded, then down at her chest. suddenly she feels exposed, unnervingly aware that while he is clad in- _plaid and trousers_ , her mind supplies- she is clad in nothing. in human language- english- it is scanty. she must be truly exhausted, because it still takes her seconds to process. 

"no-" she bites off a scream that threatens to explode in her throat and feels suspiciously like bile, the same time he asks, "how much?"

-

rachel doesn't understand why she picked gender studies. actually, she should have never picked humanities, because they're such a threat. they demand her to feel, and that makes her a liability. it is all she can do to not blow the school up whenever her lecturer invites the black students in their class to offer their opinions regarding ferguson, or when they delve into the whiteness of the great depression, or the exploitation of sex workers in the porn industry.

she should have taken something else instead, like theology, or philosophy. 

she can school her face into impassivity, all right, because that is her default expression anyway and requires no effort, but- underneath her skin, it simmers. her emotions taunt her. it seems as though her meditation has only intensified since she begun university, but it is never enough. and the more essays she is tasked, the more meditation she requires, which leaves her less time to write.

she doesn't even know how she's passing, at this rate.

class is dismissed and the only tell is the tremble in her right hand. nothing to be done about it, because like her lecturer reminds them, " _if you're tired of oppression, imagine living through it_."

she can't imagine. sometimes she wonders what all that solitary time was for, on azarath, if mere injustices on earth make her feel like this. but there's nothing she can do now, so she gazes as evenly as she can over the lecture hall that is rapidly clearing, and wills herself to find her centre.

 _azarath metrion zinthos, azarath metrion zinthos_ , all the way home. back to the shitty apartment at the literal edge of the town- heck, she had to take a bus to cross a bridge, so her residence was probably not technically in town anymore. the good thing about the tower though (ironically named for being the shortest fucking building on the west coast, with only five apartments and one basement) was that it was peaceful, and gave her the mental room she needed not to, you know, blast the city to its foundations. the only other tenant in the building was some hippie who did try to be friendly on the first day she moved in, only to be shut out. immediately.

which is good. she can't deal with more people in the building, if they're all like him. even her landlord is shady, which means she doesn't have to see him except for once a month, and he doesn't even live in the tower, so. that's cool.

except when she turns the corner and heads to her building, there's someone standing outside it, and it's not the hippie or the landlord.

she slows down; he looks at her. 

"you don't happen to live here, do you?"

"i- why does it matter?"

"is this the tower? damnit, i shouldn't have used craigslist." 

rachel's heart seizes. she doesn't like where this is going. "y-yes," and maybe, if she stretches the syllable long enough, he'll go away.

the guy wrinkles his nose, then looks resigned. she doesn't like that look. that's _her_ look, every time she comes back here.

"i'm dick," he offers. “i’m in apartment one.”

the bulb in the nearest lamppost explodes.

-

he knows like, gentrification is bad, but honestly, he'd never get vegan bread anywhere else. so he starts coming in daily (even though his wallet also cries at him, daily) because fuck if he hasn't had bread in ages.

then they offer him a job.

he's still squinting at the apron, hesitant, because he really does not know anything about bread or baking, until the cashier guy shrugs. "it's just me and my bro owning the place. we could always use more hands on deck. and the vegan community needs to stay tight, yo."

which he can't really disagree with.

also, most of said vegan community hails from the richer side of jump city, with the customers being either a) blonde or b) hot. the perks of veganism. he's been preaching about it for years.

the pay is better than his old job at the video store- it was great working there, except for the shitty pay and the shittier manager. in short, not so great. he'd be able to move out in half a year, probably, if he saves well, except.

he's still never had a proper conversation with _her_.

logically, it's not worth sticking around. he knows that. the west coast is dank and creepy, and even though he can very well fend for himself, he'd rather not live in an unsafe area. the commute alone kills him, since the vegan bakery is practically on the east side of jump city. but. 

she- nearly a year in the shitty apartment building together and he still doesn't know her name- doesn't really hang around long, won't let him see her doing anything but go inside her place. on the first day alone he'd try to say hi, but she slammed the door in his face. it's fine, gar isn't daunted. it'd make a good story for the grandkids some day.

he's an optimistic guy, okay?

he's still mulling over this when a mountain of a guy enters the bakery. garfield didn't even think it was possible for vegans to get so huge, you know, on the account of their diet and all- look at him, he's bloody tiny at barely 5"7- but the look on the guy's face makes him rethink the guy's veganism. he's so hesitant, gar feels almost worried for the guy.

"um- hi?"

"hey dude. first time trying out vegan food?"

the guy stops in his tracks. "how did you know?" somehow, gar speaking to him calms him down massively, and he's even kind of making eye contact. 

"dude, you look totally spooked."

"i- yeah."

"vegan food isn't so bad, you know."

at this, his face crumples. which makes no sense. what's his deal? 

"you don't have to go vegan if you're so hesitant. who told you about us, anyway?"

the guy lifts a shoulder, shrugging. he's visibly relaxed now, smiling. "just saw this place, thought i'd duck in. the name sounded sweet. but, uh, never mind. see you around?" he waves a hand in greeting and ducks out, but garfield's heart stops beating and he doesn't manage to wave back.

the backlight coming through the glass windows makes it hard to see, but there's no mistaking what was on the guy's hand.

a holo-ring. the exact same as gar's.

he didn't get his name, but now he _has_ to.

-

victor’s still smiling to himself. operation _integrate into society by posing as a normal human_ was a success.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a) silas is a scientist and also cyborg's jerk of a dad who's more occupied with his son's cybernetics than his actual son, thus his running away.
> 
> b) jump city is crime-free... in the east, at least. west coast is more or less shadier. dick really didn't plan this out that well.
> 
> c) garfield's holo-ring was provided by the doom patrol. in this world, beast boy took a break after their deaths, except this break he's taking more or less extended itself. the reason the holo-rings look the exact same (such that he can identify it on victor's hand) is because the technology got stolen.
> 
> d) while tamaraneans have no modesty, earthlings do; it seems reasonable that despite not understanding exactly what men associate with her manner of dress, starfire feels violated all the same.
> 
> e) in this world, the justice league did assist raven in defeating her father, so there was no need for her to form the new teen titans (as per comic canon). this leaves her with a relatively civilian lifestyle where demon raven has yet to appear- think of it as hibernation.


	2. Chapter 2

koriand’r hates earth. it is not like her to be so forcefully vengeful so easily, but what she has seen so far hits too close to home. she escaped to get _away_ from slavery and torture and prostitution, not to run back into its embrace. she got contact, alright, but she might as well not have since english is so confusing. or perhaps it’s the humans, and their eccentric ways. either way, the first on her to-do list is checked off, but assimilating is so hard. her attire, for one, seems to invite men. it takes her two days before she finally draws on the courage to steal (she really doesn’t want to)- she breaks the window of a clothing store and drapes the garments over her body. it doesn’t help much, but as she makes her way to the centre of town, at least the stares she receives are much less hostile than before.

shelter is hard; she sleeps in little alcoves and nooks she finds, which is nothing like the buildings she sees. earthen buildings are so different from tamaranean ones, but she understands that she is supposed to be sleeping in something akin to them, anyway. they have a word for this, in english. she is _homeless_.

the elements do not daunt her but she feels dirty all the time; she steals away in the night to bathe in the body of water near where she had landed. only, this fails: on the third night, there are people gathered round her craft, and bright lights. odd cylinders make _click! snap!_ sounds, and there are vehicles too. the area is cordoned off. something is wrong. koriand’r stops bathing in the body of water- on earth, they are called oceans- and flees the area, ashamed. 

she must do something. there is probably currency to be obtained, which even most other alien cultures used for trade. if she can attain it, then she can check off the rest of her list: assimilate, shelter, sustenance.

-

dick’s already surveyed the place, and it’s not too bad. he’s meant to be slumming it, anyway. craigslist was admittedly, a terrible platform to be apartment-hunting, but it had been discrete. the only really questionable aspect of the tower (he really should have known that high-rise buildings don’t cost this cheap) was the landlord, which frankly, he could deal with.

his neighbour- rachel- is at once hostile and reserved. she stares at him openly, and he can’t tell whether that’s a bad thing or a good thing. at least, she’s shown him around, which dick suspects is more than she normally does. “no one uses the basement, but it’s the red key, if you want. there’s only one other person in this building. i’ve never spoken to him.” that he can believe. and already, it’s more than the landlord’s done for him, so dick makes an effort to thank the goth.

his apartment is a shoebox. no surprise there, given the exterior of the place. there are no cobwebs, though, and it looks almost the same as the ad on craigslist, so he can’t exactly complain. it’s relatively clean and if it had been wayne manor, it’d have been called drafty, but now it’s his own place, so dick’s sticking with _airy_. hey, he can be optimistic now and then.

all’s that’s left is to check in with the garage he’s going to be working at. 

jump motors is one of the two automobile repair shops in jump city. he’d signed on to work at both, just in case (contingency plan #3 was some opening at a ridiculous bakery called “no bun-ny gets hurt”, because it seemed almost every other decent-paying job could be traced back to wayne enterprises, which, no) but jump motors had gotten back to him in three weeks, which gave him much more time to plan this living-away-from-bruce deal. and so it went.

it takes him ten minutes to get to the garage, and he can immediately tell that this is the right fit for him. the base of operations is huge, and if he hadn’t grown up in wayne manor, he’d have been overwhelmed. there are at least ten other mechanics already there up to their elbows in grease, all with matching coveralls, and it soothes him a little: if anything were to happen, it’d give him that one extra second to get away in all this confusion. it truly is an impressive set-up, and he’s still looking at the overall chaos when someone sidles up to him.

“your bike got an appointment, buddy?”

“wha- no, i’m- i’m new here. dick grayson. i’m supposed to start tomorrow?”

the guy shrugs, “i’m not in-charge of any of that admin stuff. just a lowly mechanic. name’s victor, but you can call me vic. just looking around then?”

“yeah-” and that’s when his brain catches up with him, “did you say appointment? you guys need appointments to get your stuff repaired? how big is this place?”

victor laughs at that. “it’s jump city, yo, and we’ve only got one serious competitor here. on the mainland, at least. i think there are one or two independent garages out on the islands. but we’re good, so-” 

“easy, easy, didn’t say nothing. just thought i’d stop by and tell HR i’ve arrived.”

victor shrugs again. he looks at dick coolly, and then his walls come down, and for whatever reason, dick gets a genuine smile. “my shift ends in ten. want to grab a bite after?”

-

he still doesn’t know what possessed him to say it. the guy is scrawny- okay, so most people are in comparison to him- and vic doesn’t even know if they’ll get along well. if this blows up, they’re going to have deal with each other at work, and he’s barely started here, there’s no knowing if it’ll cost him his job.

but victor- victor takes a deep breath and watches the guy go up the stairs to HR, and reminds himself that he’s not all machine. he’s human too, and he needs to go with his gut; if his gut tells him to invite someone to eat, then that’s what he’s going to do.

they meander around, leaving the guy’s- dick’s- sweet, _sweet_ ride at the garage, and meander around town. then victor learns that he’s just arrived to jump, so that of course is his cue to bring him straight to the pizza corner, and can’t stop grinning widely at dick as they wait for their order to arrive.

“that’s… disturbing. cut it out, man.”  


victor doesn’t cut it out.

it’s been awhile since he’s really had friends, or socialised, but talking to dick is easy, like putting on an old baseball mitt and still finding it moulded to your hands. it’s almost too easy, actually, and as they’re arguing over who’d win who in a fight- captain america or iron man- there’s a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. his luck’s been too good, lately, and sure it’s the fragility of the holo-ring talking, but vic finds himself less and less committed to arguing the merits of tony stark.

his companion’s voice breaks him out of his stupor. “hey- you okay, victor?”

he kind of wants to tell him the truth- _i’m part robot and i don’t think you can trust me because i don’t trust me, and the only good thing about running away from my dad is just that, i hate my current place and our job is really stressful on weekdays_ \- but he resorts to telling dick a truthful lie. “was just thinking about my place, i hate going home,” and he disguises the sentiment through bites of pizza he makes sure dick sees.

dick scrunches his face, “jesus, you’re just like my brothers. what’s so bad about your place?”

“nah, nah, it’s fine, just- pricey, you know? not really worth the dough. and i need to save up,” _to put myself through college because the accident killed my chances of scholarship_ , “to work on my car.”

there’s a brief moment of silence (barring the slurping and chewing) and then dick asks, “when does your lease expire?”

“uh- in three months, i think? can’t really afford it, i’ve got to look for a new place-”

“i have an idea,” he says, and vic kind of likes the sound of that, but he doesn’t tell him that.

-

it’s a brilliant plan. of course it is. the tower could use more people even if rachel doesn’t think so, judging by the thinly veiled panic on her face when he’d introduced himself as the new owner of apartment one, and victor seems great. dick’s instincts also tell him there’s a lot he’s hiding, but so is everyone, and that doesn’t really matter. 

he’s never been so eager for company that he doesn’t stop to think about what it could mean.

-

being a file clerk isn’t so bad. the work is horribly dull and mundane, but that’s exactly what rachel needs. it barely impinges her mental concentration to sort all the documents, which means she can meditate _and_ get paid. a win-win situation, really.

today’s assignment had involved the ever-routine organizing of files by some corporation or the other that wayne enterprises was getting involved in. not a surprise, really, since she seemed to work for the biggest fucking company on this side of america, and it’s not her concern what her employers are up to. except- she can’t stop thinking about the newcomer. 

she really hopes that peace will be kept. he seemed like a reasonable guy.

her shift ends at two on the dot, which gives her ample time to get home, rest, and then get ready for school again, which starts at ten. only- there’s something wrong tonight. someone in pain and distress, and they’re near her side of town.

rachel _flies_ out of there.

she’s rarely raven- she had had enough of that- but it’s nighttime, and no one will see. besides, this individual clearly needs some help. she can sense that they’re strong enough that it’ll be an unmitigated disaster if they have a breakdown of some kind: definitely not human. there are flashes of scenes right out of sci-fi movies, and it’s only thanks to the mind-numbing hours of her work that she can suppress her empathy for this individual. an operating table. bolts of green that shouldn’t have been. the fall of a city. and occasionally, a tendril of _hunger_ will sneak out and rattle raven to her bones. 

she lands near a series of warehouses, not far from the coast. it’s quiet; eerily so. raven has to remind herself that she’s strong, even if she doesn’t always feel like it; the possibility that this is an ambush are slim. the possibility that the alien will overpower her is slimmer. it takes her ten minutes of scouting the area before she hears unabashed weeping.

she turns the corner, and it’s a girl. except- no. she’s humanoid in appearance, but there’s an aura of strength about her even in her disheveled state, and raven narrows her eyes at the alien. what kind of trick is this? 

then raven makes the mistake of stepping forth from the shadows without introducing herself.

the alien, startled, shoots green bolts at her; raven can tell that, if not for her reflexes, it might have seriously injured her. the alien’s eyes are glowing green and petrified, and it is the latter that lets raven steel herself.

“i mean no harm,” she says, as clearly as possible.

“who are you?”

“i am- not human. much like you. do you need help?”

it is possibly, the most kindness she has shown since- since a while, really. she is rewarded when the glowing subsides, and this lets her take another step, closer to the alien. “i do,” the girl replies, “i wish to be of this earth.”

“i don’t understand.”

“i am here to make a home but i- i don’t know how. i was taught humans do not have abilities like i do, i am trying not to use them, but-”

at this, raven crouches and looks levelly at her. “i might be able to help. what’s your name?”

-

“reports have found an alien craft on the west coast. we’re directing you to martha, who’s there on the scene-” the tv’s mere white noise, and garfield couldn’t help looking up when the news anchor mentioned _alien_ , but that isn’t his life anymore. it hasn’t been for a long time. he tells himself he doesn’t care, and goes back to his homework. it’s his senior year; he can’t afford to be distracted. he just needs to graduate, and then maybe he’ll go to community college, but he needs at least a diploma if he’s going to earn something. sure, acting is fun, and it pays well- on occasion. it isn’t consistent, which is why the video dome then the bakery happened, and if he ever wants to leave murakami high, he needs to get back to calculus.

-

raven tells herself it’s only temporary. she can’t house an alien forever, and sure the landlord never drops by for an inspection, but her lease did state only one tenant.

there’s got to be some way around this.


End file.
